


saw you in a dream

by penceypineapple



Series: idiots in love [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Era, Day Two: Soulmates, Dreams, M/M, Nightmares, Sokka (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Soulmates, Zukka Week 2021, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 03:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penceypineapple/pseuds/penceypineapple
Summary: “I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”“We’re soulmates, Zuko. I think we’re supposed to at least kiss.”Or: After they first meet, soulmates dream of their future together. Which is why Sokka is confused when he dreams of none other than Prince Zuko.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: idiots in love [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2213031
Comments: 16
Kudos: 221





	saw you in a dream

**Author's Note:**

> Zukka week day 2: Soulmates!

_Gentle waves spill over Sokka’s shoulders as the glowing moon lights up the sky, illuminating the inky black sea. He’s wrapped in someone’s arms, someone’s warm arms, and they gently rock him to the rhythm of the tides, expanding and contracting like a beating heart. He’s safe here. Protected. The warm air soothes his tight chest, allowing him to breathe for the first time in months. And in this moment, he lets all the stress and worries in his life drift away, dissolving into the sea. He forgives the past. He forgets the war. He lets go of his grand task of helping Aang restore balance to the world. And just for a moment, he forgets he’s being chased down by a certain prince with a stupid ponytail. He’s here now, in another world, in another reality, and he is safe._

_“Let go, Sokka."_

_“Let go.”_

_He knows that voice. His eyes snap open, and he looks up. As soon as he does, he jerks his body away from the arms that hold him, chest heaving in a frenzy of shock and fury._

_“Zuko?”_

_Zuko emerges from the fog that wraps around the surface of the sea. But he’s different. Gone are the tired, dark circles under his eyes that Sokka has grown so used to. His hair is longer now, hanging just above his shoulders, and somehow, he looks healthier. Happier. His eyes are soft, golden irises glowing through the starry night._

_His eyes alone set the world on fire._

_“It’s you,” he says, a small smile on his face, making the little golden flames in his eyes burn even brighter. “It was always you."_

_Sokka tries to swim away, but the current pulls him back towards Zuko._

_His enemy._

_“No it’s not,” Sokka snaps through gritted teeth. “It was never you and it never will be.”_

_Zuko will never be his soulmate._

_Not if Sokka can help it._

* * *

“Sokka! Sokka, wake up. It’s just a nightmare.”

_Katara._

His eyes snap open. Two concerned faces – Aang and Katara – are hovering over him. The cool breeze sweeps through his consciousness, as if to dissolve the lingering memories of the dream, but in his heart they remain. Like poison, gnawing away at his soul. The sky is like a ceiling over his head, they’re up in the clouds, sailing through the sky, painted pink in the dawn, on Appa’s back.

“Sokka, are you okay?” Aang asks.

He continues to gasp for breath, gulping down the crisp morning air. His chest aches, and his head is pounding and swimming with images of Zuko, _Zuko of all people, his fucking enemy, embracing him and_ \- “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“I’m not believing that for a second,” Katara says, sitting down beside him on the edge of Appa’s saddle. “What did you see?”

_What did you see in your dreams?  
_

He can’t get any words out. He doesn’t know what to say. Tears collect in his eyes.

 _The dreams will come,_ his tribe had told him when he was young. _The dreams will show you who you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with._

_Your soulmate._

He didn’t believe them.

He still doesn’t.

Katara’s arms wrap around his shoulders. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But I’m here for you, okay? We both are.”

He nods weakly.

* * *

“I know who my soulmate is,” Katara whispers to him, under the light of the full moon. “I had the dream a few weeks ago.”

“Who is it?”

A soft smile lights up Katara’s eyes. “It’s Aang.”

“Katara, that’s great!”

_“Shhh!”_

He glances over and sees Aang lying next to Appa, sound asleep. “Oh. Sorry. You haven’t talked about it yet?”

“Not yet.” Katara falls silent for several heartbeats, before saying, “You haven’t had any dreams yet?”

“Of what?”

Katara giggles. “Of your _soulmate_ , idiot.”

“No,” Sokka says. “No, I haven’t.”

* * *

_“Get out of my head!” Sokka yells in Zuko’s face._

_Zuko stumbles back as if he’s been stabbed by Sokka’s words. “I’m sorry, Sokka. Please just listen to me.”_

_“I’m not listening to anything you have to say,” Sokka hisses. “You chase us halfway across the fucking world, you try to capture my friend who’s only trying to stop the war, and I’m supposed to listen to you? Hell no.”_

_“But Sokka, this isn’t the past anymore. We’re here now, we’re here, in the palace, and we’re okay. The war is over.”_

_The palace?_

_Sokka tears his gaze away from Zuko and takes in his surroundings. Indeed, together they stand in the courtyard of the Fire Nation Royal Palace, the world decorated in red and gold. He doesn’t know why he recognises the palace, for he’s never been there before._

_Why would his future self fall in love with a firebender? Why would his future self move to the Fire Nation, if not to betray his own people, his family, his friends?_

_“You’re not my soulmate,” he snaps. “This isn’t real, this is just a meaningless dream, and you’re not my soulmate. So let’s just both forget this and move on, alright?”_

_“Sokka, my soul chose yours. A soul doesn’t just forget that. And I’d choose you, in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality. I’d find you, and I’d choose you.”_

_Sokka can’t speak. He opens and closes his mouth, but no words come out. He’s frozen. Lifeless. Cold, like a statue._

_“Come, please,” Zuko says gently, sitting down by the turtleduck pond and patting the spot in the soft grass next to him. “Please hear me out. And then I’ll get out of your head for good. I swear”_

_Sokka sits._

_“Sokka, timing has never been our strong suit. When we first met, I-I was in a very dark place. I was angry, bitter, and a complete jerk to everyone-“_

_Tell me something I don’t know,” Sokka grumbles, looking at the turtleducks swimming around the pond, refusing to meet Zuko’s eyes._

_“I lost my way. I did terrible things, and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Sokka. But I’ll find my way again. And when I find it again, that’s when I’ll find you.”_

_“I don’t want you to find me. Because there’s nothing at all between us."_

_Zuko smiles, and he appears to be glancing down at Sokka’s neck. “If there’s really nothing between us, then why did you marry me?”_

_His hands reach his neck, and he feels it. A betrothal necklace._

_He tears it from his neck and throws it to the ground._

* * *

Zuko looks tired. Sokka notices during one of their many fights, after Katara spent several precious seconds convincing Aang to go hide somewhere _(He’s here for you, Aang. Go hide. We’ll hold him off)._

On and on Zuko fights, flames firing from his closed knuckles, trembling with uncontrolled rage. His skin is pale, almost translucent, dark circles cradling his eyes like bruises. His movements are slower. Imprecise. Katara sends waterfalls rising up into the air, quenching every flame he summons.

Zuko destroys everything he touches.

But how come, instead of focusing on the fight, all Sokka can think about are Zuko’s golden eyes, the way they had glimmered through the night sky in his dreams? The way the ocean had danced along their chests, the gentle tide drawing them together, arms wrapped around each other in an embrace, an embrace he longs for now, how he yearns to wrap Zuko in his arms and never let go? He finds himself half-mouthing the words: _You lost your way, Zuko, but you’ll find it again. You’ll find me, and you’ll be okay._

Zuko manages to disarm Sokka and tosses his spear into the ocean. He wrestles Sokka to the ground and hurls his fist into the air as it catches on fire, and Sokka thinks this will be the end.

“It’s you,” Sokka whispers, squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for the final blow, the blow that will send him into darkness forever.

But it never comes.

It’s as if Zuko had been in a rageful daze and he’s awoken from it now, clarity returning to his glazed-over eyes. The flames die in his hands, reduced to nothing but a stream of smoke dissipating into the air. He releases Sokka from his hold, chest heaving with shaky breaths. His right eye is wide with something that resembles fear, but his left remains permanently pulled shut into a narrow squint. Sokka wonders how much vision he retains in his left eye. He assumes it’s just enough to get by.

Zuko’s voice cracks. “It’s you.”

_They know. They both know, and it’s all real._

_Reality is brighter than their beautiful, terrible dreams._

* * *

_“Is this alright?” Zuko asks cautiously, his arm wrapped around Sokka’s shoulder._

_Sokka leans in closer, skin against skin, sinking deep into Zuko’s chest. “It’s quite alright.”_

_The evening sun is brushing against the horizon, painting the sky in pink and orange and red. But red doesn’t suit Zuko like gold does. Golden, like the specks of sunlight dancing through the rain. Golden, like the little flames in Zuko’s eyes._

_Together, they listen to silence._

_Together, they are at peace._

* * *

He tells Katara when they’re in Ba Sing Se.

“It’s Zuko,” he says.

She laughs. “Nice one, Sokka.”

“I’m not joking.”

“Oh.”

* * *

_“I trusted him because of you!”_ Tears are streaming down Katara’s cheeks as she clutches Aang in her arms, still and lifeless, with a lightning scar extending down his back.

“I know. I know and I’m sorry.” The green hue of the crystal catacombs, once beautiful, stings Sokka’s eyes now. He doesn’t know whether to scream or cry. This is all his fault.

What kind of brother is he?

“What does Sokka have to do with any of this?” Toph asks.

“Ask him who his soulmate is,” Katara snaps as she wipes the tears from her eyes. She turns away from Sokka and hovers her hands over Aang’s back for another healing session.

“He’s not my soulmate,” Sokka insists. “It must’ve been a stupid dream.”

“Yeah, right. Just a stupid dream,” Katara mutters.

 _I hope you’re happy,_ he snarls into his consciousness, as if Zuko would somehow be able to hear him.

_I’m not._

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Zuko says, legs dangling over the edge of the cliff by the Western Air Temple. The wind is so strong it could swallow them both whole. Gold is clouded with a milky blue as tears fill Zuko’s eyes, but he wipes them away before they can spill down his cheeks.

Sokka sighs, still not meeting his gaze. “It’s okay,” he mutters.

He wants to wrap Zuko in a hug. He wants to tell him it’ll be okay.

But he doesn’t.

* * *

_“He’s sorry,” Zuko echoes, pulling at his topknot and letting his hair spill down over his face. He sits down on the red and gold couch beside Sokka. Although he appears older now, the same lingering sadness still haunts the edges of Zuko’s golden irises, like the ghosts of the past are the flickering flames inside his eyes._

_“I know,” Sokka says, placing his sketchbook of inventions on the table and turning to face Zuko. “What do you expect me to do? Give him a hug?”_

_“I think he’d like that.”_

_Sokka folds his arms across his chest. “How do I know he won’t betray me again?”_

_Zuko shifts closer to him, and a hand is on Sokka’s knee, a warm hand, soothing the cramp that had been brewing there. Stopping his racing heart._

_“Sokka, look at me. Please.”_

_“What?”_

_“He won’t betray you again.”_

* * *

“Zuko, hey,” Sokka whispers, nudging his ally (not quite friends, but also not quite enemies, since their journey to Boiling Rock). “Hey, wake up. It’s just a dream.”

Flames ignite in Zuko’s palms as he lurches backwards, eyes wide with fear, gasping for breath.

Sokka puts up his hands in a mini surrender. “Zuko, it’s okay. It’s just me. Sokka. You’re here at the Western Air Temple.”

The flame dissolves into the cool night air.

It’s something Hakoda used to do, reminding his son of where he was, when Sokka used to nightmares of the invasion on his tribe, of his mother being killed. _They’re gone, Sokka. You’re safe. Nobody’s going to hurt you._  
This doesn’t seem to help tonight.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko chokes out between gasping breaths, holding his head in his hands with his knees pressed into his chest.

Sokka cautiously shifts closer, hesitating as the question forms at the edge of his tongue. “What happened?”

For he must roam through Zuko’s dreams, much like how Zuko roams through his. 

Zuko shakes his head. “It wasn’t about us. It was about… about something else.”

“Something in the future?” For it’s never a good sign to have horrific dreams of the future just weeks away from an upcoming battle.

“No, something in the past.” His answer is brief, perhaps cut off by the tears collecting in his eyes, or by the quickening pace of his breathing, as if he’s reliving the ghosts of the past inside his head. “Sorry, I just – I just don’t like talking about it.”

Sokka knows it’s time to back off. “It’s okay. I’m always here if you want to talk, though. I get dreams too, sometimes.”

“Thanks,” Zuko says weakly, sniffing and wiping the tears from his eyes.

They sit in silence for a long time until Zuko manages to catch his breath. Sokka yearns to grasp his soulmate’s hand, to wrap him into a hug, but it’s not the right time. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

“What am I like?” Zuko asks into the night, not meeting Sokka’s gaze. “In your dreams. What am I like?”

Sokka pauses, picking his words carefully. “I never thought I’d say this, but you’re actually kind of… Sweet?”

Zuko smiles. It’s the first time Sokka has ever seen him smile, and now he wants to capture the image in his mind forever.

“What am I like?”

“You’re sweet too,” Zuko says, still smiling. “And funny. And smart. And a bit taller.”

“You calling me short?”

“No!” Zuko attempts to backtrack. “I mean – you’re taller than you are now, that’s all.”

“Hey, I’m only kidding,” Sokka assures him. “Am I taller than you?”

“A little bit.”

“Good.”

They both laugh together like old friends, and for a second, they forget the war. They forget the horrors of their pasts and the uncertainty of their futures. All Sokka wants to do is wrap Zuko in his arms and never let go. Maybe now, they’ll be okay.

“Zuko?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I hug you?”

Zuko nods, and they’re in each other’s arms in an instant, gripping tightly, as if afraid the other will let go and disappear forever.

_“You’re not evil, Zuko,” an older Sokka says, words heavy with sorrowful wisdom. “You’ve just been robbed of love. Of light.”_

* * *

In the distance, Sokka sees Katara and Zuko walking slowly towards him.

_They’re okay. The war’s over, and they’re going to be okay._

But as they draw closer, Sokka realises that something is wrong. Zuko is leaning heavily against Katara’s side, and she’s half carrying, half dragging him towards Sokka, blue eyes wide with fear. His are barely open, lolling to the back of his head.

“Sokka, help me,” she pleads between ragged gasps of air. “Help me carry him.”

“I can’t,” he says as he stumbles towards them, attempting to push through the raging pain burning through his freshly broken left leg. “My leg. I-I think I broke it.”

A cool sensation washes over his left leg as Katara’s healing water wraps around his aching bones. “That should work for now.”  
“Thanks,” Sokka says, and he rushes over to Zuko’s other side, wrapping his soulmate’s arm around his shoulders. Together, he and Katara carry Zuko along the broken cobblestone path, towards the palace, which has been turned into a makeshift hospital, the only place big enough to house hundreds of wounded soldiers. Luckily, some master healers from the Northern Tribe came down to the Fire Nation palace to help the injured.

“What happened?” Sokka asks, eyeing Zuko with concern as they continue to walk painfully slowly towards the palace. His eyes are distant and glazed over, hovering between unconsciousness and lucidity. His body is heavy and limp, barely even holding his own head up. His breathing sounds slow and strained in Sokka’s ear.

“Azula shot lightning at him. His heart, it – it completely stopped and I had to start it again. He seemed okay for a few minutes, but then he just… collapsed and I don’t know what to do Sokka, his heartbeat is so faint and I… I don’t know if he’s going to survive this.”

“No. No, he’s going to survive,” Sokka says, but he sounds like he’s assuring himself of this fact as much as he’s attempting to assure his sister. “He can’t die. He can’t, he-“

“Sokka.” Katara’s voice is a calm force, grounding him to reality. To the present moment. “Can you stay with him while I run to the palace and find the other healers?”

Sokka nods. “Okay.”

He stays, and Katara runs.

“S-Sokka.” Zuko’s voice is so quiet and strained that Sokka can barely hear it. “Sokka, it hurts.”

He helps Zuko down to the ground, so he’s sitting propped up against the wall of a damaged building. “What hurts?”

Zuko opens his mouth, but no words come out. One trembling hand clutches his chest. “M-my chest. Sokka, it _hurts_.” His voice is getting weaker, and his eyes flicker shut.

Tears are streaming down Sokka’s face now, as he wraps his arms around his friend’s shoulders. “Zuko, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay and you’re going to keep fighting because you can’t leave me. I love you and you can’t leave me Zuko, _please don’t_.”

He’s begging now. Begging and pleading for his soulmate to stay alive, to ignore the peaceful callings of the Spirit World. It’s hopeless.

Zuko’s head goes limp against the wall. “I love you too,” he rasps.

For a second, Sokka thinks he’s gone. But after placing a finger against Zuko’s wrist, he detects a weak, irregular pulse, barely there. Zuko remains still and lifeless, wrapped in his soulmate’s arms, his clothes wet with Sokka’s tears.

Katara emerges from the clouds of smoke that drift through the ravaged Fire Nation Capital, with two Northern Tribe healers by her side. Together, the master healers carry Zuko up the stairs and into the palace. Sokka and Katara follow.

“Will he be okay?” Sokka asks frantically, but the Northern Tribe Healers don’t respond.

“They don’t know yet,” Katara says.

He tries to follow the healers into the palace, but Katara puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. There’s nothing else he can do. Now, all he can do is hope.

_The war isn’t over. Not until Zuko is safe._

* * *

The news is dire, at first.

“A lightning strike straight through the chest poses a great deal of potential complications,” a Northern Healer explains in front of a concerned, sleep-deprived Sokka and Uncle Iroh, who have remained by Zuko’s bedside all day and all night since he was first brought into the palace. Three days ago. He’s been in a coma for three days.

“Like what?” Sokka dares to ask.

“Like long-term damage to the heart and the nervous system. This can lead to headaches, fatigue, trouble sleeping, forgetfulness, and chronic pain. _If he survives,_ he probably won’t suffer from all these side-effects, but experiencing a few of them is quite common.”

_If he survives._

Sokka wants to cry, but he’s done too much of that these past few days.

Instead, he silently gets up and, with the help of his crutches, makes his way to Zuko’s bedside.

He sits down and holds Zuko’s hand, tracing his thumb along the soft skin as he half-listens to Uncle Iroh’s stories.

“It’s me,” Sokka eventually says, voice weak and raspy. “I’m his soulmate.”

Iroh walks over to Sokka and wraps him in a hug. “Oh, Sokka,” he says. “I’m glad it’s you.”

* * *

After five days, Zuko begins to stir.

Just as the healers were beginning to question if he’d ever wake up.

Sokka rushes over and clutches Zuko’s hand. “Zuko?” he says softly.

Zuko groans as his eyes flicker open, squinting as they adjust to the soft morning light creeping in through the half open window.

Sokka continues to trace shapes along Zuko’s palms as his soulmate gradually returns to consciousness, empty eyes blinking and attempting to process the new world after the war.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

And Sokka laughs.

He laughs and cries at the same time.

* * *

It’s another two weeks before Zuko’s allowed out of bed. And even then, the healers forbid him from overexertion, and appoint Sokka to help supervise him.

“Even if he seems a little bit tired, you need to get him back to bed,” Katara instructs. “Even if he tells you he’s fine.”

“Sure, but I doubt he’ll listen to me. He’s stubborn.”

“I know, but please try.”

“Alright.”

* * *

Together, Sokka and Zuko sit on the balcony and watch the sunset, the sky being decorated in pink, orange and gold.

“How are you feeling?” Sokka asks. It’s become a routine question now, over the past few weeks. He utters the words every day, making sure Zuko is okay during his recovery.

“I’m okay,” Zuko assures him. “My head hurts and my chest hurts and I feel kind of foggy, but that’s nothing new.”

“Zuko, we can go back to bed if-“

Zuko cuts him off. “I’ll be fine,” he says, a hint of irritation in his voice. Sokka knows better than to push the matter any further, so he lapses into silence once again, taking in the colourful sky.

It’s quiet. Peaceful. For the first time in years, Sokka feels at ease, by Zuko’s side. He never thought he’d feel safe in the Fire Nation Palace, but he does.

Because Zuko feels like home.

“Sokka?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”

“We’re _soulmates_ , Zuko. I think we’re supposed to at least kiss.”

And they do.


End file.
